


Nightmare

by anoncanon



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Nightmares, Sappy, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:09:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3071021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoncanon/pseuds/anoncanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian wakes up from one of those dreadful mage nightmares and the Inquisitor (male mage Trevelyan) tries to take his mind off the bad dream.</p>
<p>No smut, just guys talking and a bit of sappiness...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare

Dorian woke up with a start, sitting straight up. He stared blindly at the darkness of the room, eyes wide, breathing rapidly. The reality of the nightmare receded and he started to recognize elements of his surroundings. The embers in the fireplace. The glint of metal from his clothes laid on a chair. The pale glow of the moon, hidden behind clouds, outlining the balcony. He put his face in his hands, inhaled deeply then let out a long shaky breath.

“Are you alright?” inquired a low voice, softly, from right next to him. He felt a warm hand press lightly on his back, between the shoulderblades.

“I will be… just-- just let me recover my senses,” Dorian whispered.

“You’re shaking,” the other man commented, concern in his tone. “Hold on.” He got up from the bed and padded to the desk in the corner of the room, where he picked up a mug from the table. He tasted the content then brought the mug back to the bed and offered it to Dorian, who took it with unsteady hands.

Dorian took a sip. It was sweetened mint tea, now cold, but still tasting fine.

The other man sat on the bed. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

“I don’t know... I--” Dorian tried, “I think I stumbled upon the realm of a Despair demon. Maker’s breath, it just felt so _real_ !” He lowered the mug, “I’m sorry I woke you.”

The man shook his head dismissively and nudged himself closer to Dorian, “It looked really… acute.”

“It was. I dreamt… you were gone,” Dorian revealed. “The more I looked for you, the more you were lost to me,” his voice broke. He took another sip of tea from the mug. “I know it sounds terribly selfish; it was all about how I was experiencing the loss but I’m convinced you wouldn’t enjoy being… being… _Kaffas_ , I can’t even say it.”

The other man moved to sit behind Dorian, one leg on each side. He slid his arms around the Tevinter’s torso, hands resting lightly on his chest, “You don’t have to downplay it for me, I know how distressing mage nightmares can be.” He bent forward and rested his forehead on Dorian’s shoulder, his shoulder-length hair falling around his face.

Dorian gradually calmed down, comforted by the silent presence of the other man. His breathing evened, his hands stopped shaking.

“A part of me feels foolish for getting so upset over a _nightmare_ ,” Dorian stated, “The other part is still terrified, though.” He drank the last of the tea and idly rotated the mug in his hands.

The other man raised his head, “It’s never ‘just a bad dream’ when it comes to a mage’s nightmares.”

“Have you ever had one that was _really_ bad?” Dorian asked.

“Yes, back when I was a child,” the other man replied. “It’d seem ridiculous now, but the feelings and emotions were so real, so raw. I screamed until it bled; it took a deathroot injection to calm me down.”

“How old were you?” Dorian asked quietly.

“Six. I was sent to the Circle of Magi in Ostwick within the week,” the man answered.

“Just like that? Packed, shipped, never to be seen again?” Dorian said.

“That’s how it’s done in the South. Or used to be,” the other man replied. “It was alright though, Ostwick’s Circle was relatively mellow. Even when it all broke loose, we were one of the least… brutal revolts.”

The other man took the empty mug from Dorian’s hands and moved to place it on the floor, by the headboard. He laid back down on the bed and motioned to Dorian to come join him. The Tevinter turned around, bringing the covers with him, and laid on his side.

“What are Circles like in Tevinter?” the man asked.

“Quite different from yours; for us it’s a prestigious thing to be in a Circle, a privilege. Mages _want_ to be accepted in a Circle, most are turned away at the door,” Dorian answered.

“Did you enjoy your time in Vyrantium’s Circle of Magi?” the man continued.

“Of course I did. It was very gratifying. I was learning so much and I was doing _very_ well. Star pupil, highest scores in all my tests... I worked so hard. Back then, I still wanted to make my father proud, to show the family I was even better than they imagined.” He paused, “In retrospect, I wonder if I was aiming for such a goal in the hopes it would help them accept the side of me I knew they’d disapprove.”

There was a moment of silence. Dorian draped an arm over the other man’s chest.

“Does your family… approve? Do they even know?” Dorian asked quietly.

“I couldn’t say and at this point, I wouldn’t care either,” the man replied. “I lost all claim to nobility when I joined the Circle. The people there have been my family, for all intents and purposes.”

“Now that you’re a hero though, you can be sure clan Trevelyan will show some keen interest in you,” Dorian stated. “I might not know your family but I know nobility quite well. Too well.”

The other man chuckled, “It used to be that no one would look at me twice. Now, they all want help, or favors, or to meet me personally… Or to kill me. I didn’t realize it when I was living at the Circle, but perhaps it was not so bad to escape a life of political intrigue, backstabbing and arranged marriages.”

“It sure is different,” Dorian replied, a knowing look in his eyes. He snuggled closer to the other man, resting his head on the man’s shoulder.

“I know you’re trying to take my mind off the nightmare with light conversation, but I really should let you sleep,” Dorian said apologetically. “You’re the one with the impossibly full schedule and all the running around.”

“My schedule doesn’t take precedent over your well-being,” the other man replied. “I know where my priorities lie,” he added with a lopsided grin.

The Tevinter chuckled. “Oh, _please_ ,” he said dismissively.

There was a slightly awkward silence.

“Dorian,” the other man said, his voice even and serious, “I love you.”

Dorian’s arm tightened around the other man’s torso. He let out a shaky sigh, “And this is why I have nightmares.” The tone of his voice belied his words; it wasn’t mockery but resignation.

He got up on his elbow to look at the other man’s face, bringing back the arm that was over the other man’s torso to massage the bridge of his nose. “I never assumed I’d one day have a… relationship with someone. A real one, that I wanted to pursue as much as they would. A connection. Something other than sex.” He lowered his hand from his face, “Now that I have such a rare, unique light in my life, I’m terrified to think it could go extinct.”

“I’m not going away and I’m not going to die,” the other man replied.

“You can’t possibly have certitudes about the second one,” Dorian retorted.

“Of course not; we all die eventually. What I mean is that I’m not dying anytime soon. I have every intention of staying alive and fighting as hard as necessary to make sure I come back,” the other man said. He shifted, bringing his head closer to Dorian’s, “I have the best thing to come home to: you.” He closed the distance between them and kissed Dorian softly. “I believe now would be a good time to sleep, before this gets anymore sappy,” he said with a grin.

They settled down for sleep, nestling their bodies together. Dorian was laying on his back, the other man’s head resting against his neck. The latter’s arm was protectively wrapped around Dorian’s stomach.

“There is one final sappy thing I have to say,” Dorian whispered.

“Mh?” The other man angled his head toward Dorian’s face.

Dorian spoke, his voice barely audible, “I love you, too.”

They drifted off to sleep, the rest of the night uneventful. When morning came, bright and crisp, Dorian was the first to wake up. He didn’t stir though; he just laid there, basking in the moment. There was still a lot of unknowns in their near future, but he felt a little less weighed down by it all. He smiled. Maybe it would all turn out alright, for once. 

**Author's Note:**

> I ran out of prompts I wanted to work with so I wrote this. It is more self-indulgent than what I usually write, so the Inquisitor is possibly less... vague and nondescript. 
> 
> Also, since it has like no smut at all, I don't expect anyone to read this. I mainly wrote it because I wanted to :)
> 
> (If you're reading this note, have a cookie and a great big thanks from me :D )


End file.
